Vignettes
by Auna
Summary: Futurefic Series #16: Picture a camera wandering aimlessly on Moya catching bits and pieces of moments and conversations before moving on again to find something else interesting.  That is this story.


Title: Vignettes

Author: Auna

Rating: PG-13ish

Beta: None at this time, but that may change

Timeline: Approximately 37 cycles after Bad Timing, set in an Unrealized Reality where PKW never happened. (The series started before there was any hint of a miniseries. Yes. This series is that old.)

Summary: Picture a camera wandering aimlessly on Moya catching bits and pieces of moments and conversations before moving on again to find something else interesting. That is this story.

Author's note: Warning- there is no plot to this at all. I was in the mood to revisit some old friends, so I've lived in their world for the last two days and this is the result. I wrote it strictly for myself and my own entertainment, and made no effort at literary achievement or greatness. Or even story development. I may or may not add bits to this periodically, depending on my whim.

This is part 15 of The Future Universe series, listed chronologically as a sticky topic at the top of my author page on www dot farscapefluffybunnies dot com. Don't worry; you don't have to read the whole long saga to get this one, only the last two stories. You'll want to at least start with Aeric's Song – Melody, and then move on to the very short Aeric's Song – Resolutions.

Those two stories are a must, because this picks up a couple of arns where Resolutions leaves off and does nothing to explain anything.

Without further ado, let's open the curtain on a few reactions of the arrival of the new crew member.

xxxxxxx

"Emmaline's pregnant."

John looked up from the tablet in his hands to see Aeryn leaning against their door of their quarters. He allowed himself a short moment to simply enjoy the sight of her, with the grey streaks in her hair, the leather pants and the black vest she wore. She was still sexy, even as she announced to him that they would be grandparents. Again.

"When's she due?" he asked, mentally calculating that their new daughter-in-law couldn't be farther than six months along, but most likely less. The nightgown was pretty voluminous; it would have concealed her condition fairly easily.

He was still trying to get over the fact that his son left for two weeks, and came back _married_.

"I don't know. She's not showing yet, and she didn't mention the pregnancy to me," his wife answered, stepping away from the door and walking toward him.

John raised an eyebrow in question, and she knew what he meant.

"It's the way she holds herself. And she keeps rubbing her stomach."

Aeryn sat next to him on the bed and he set aside the tablet to pick up her hand and lace his fingers through hers.

"Maybe she's feeling sick. This is a lot to take in…"

"No, it wasn't like that," she denied. "And it was the way Aeric held her during the inquisition." John rolled his eyes at her choice of wording for what happened during the debriefing, but she continued. "It was the same way you held me when I was pregnant with Dne. His hands covered her stomach in the same protective gesture."

"You still haven't convinced me. Why don't we just ask?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet. Let them have their secrets. They'll tell us when they are ready."

"All right," he agreed easily enough, but he worried slightly. The young woman's pregnancy would have an effect on Aeric, and on this new mission.

"So what is the new plan?" Aeryn asked him, and he took in a deep breath to steel himself. She wasn't going to like this. With a mental cringe, he began to fill her in on the plan to de-evolutionize the Scarrans.

xxxxxxx

"Who does she think she is?" Brennik fumed, pacing from one end of her chamber to the other.

The man standing in the corner with his arms crossed, trying desperately to stay out of the way, fought a smile and decided to risk his life. "His wife?" he ventured. His efforts to keep from smiling ended up leaving a smirk across his lips, bending the scar running from his right eye down his cheek into weird angles.

When his wife turned to glare at him, he knew he was pushing his luck. "Ha ha. Brilliant," she retorted. "Make jokes. My poor, innocent, naïve, little brother is being manipulated by some tralk and—"

Sethya choked on his laughter, and tried to sober up when he saw her hand graze over her pulse pistol. Wouldn't that be a delicious irony, to be killed by a present he'd given over sixteen cycles ago? Realizing he needed to take her distress a little more seriously, he took a deep breath in an effort to smooth over his mirth and donned the "gentle and placating" voice he'd developed especially for her and her pregnancies.

"Brennik, the man is almost thirty cycles old, I think he's old enough to make a decision like this for himself."

She didn't soften.

"You were much younger than him when you married me."

Still, not helping.

Sighing, he ignored the way her hand caressed her sidearm and finally stepped away from the wall. He pushed his arms under hers, pulling her in close for a hug and leaving her no choice but to place her hands on his shoulders. Gently laying his forehead against hers, he spoke softly to his wife, reminding her of things she'd rather forget.

"Aeric has never been allowed to be young and naïve for a single moment of his life, Princess. He was born a slave. He was forced to kill for the first time at thirteen, to save the lives of his parents. He's helped to raise nieces, nephews and little brothers. He's been tortured and hunted and brutalized and hated by entire civilizations."

He felt Brennik begin to shake, and he felt bad for doing this to her. But it needed to be said, so he continued.

"But in all of that, have you ever once known him to be manipulated?" She hesitated a moment, and then finally shook her head without speaking. He pulled back slightly, so that he could look into her eyes. They were red and filled with tears that didn't fall. "If he's managed to find someone who gives him some small measure of happiness, someone who helps him feel like he isn't broken anymore, then I am the very last person in this universe who can judge him for being selfish enough to grab hold and refuse to let go. I'd be a hypocrite."

Getting in an obscure "I love you" was unfair, but he had to remind her of why she didn't want to use that pulse pistol against him.

She sniffled once. "I don't like her."

"You don't have to," he assured. "But for Aeric's sake, we should probably try to be nice to her."

Brennik harrumphed, reminding him so much of their oldest daughter Eiyeth that he had to smile again. And then, to divert her thoughts, and because Angry Brennik turned him on every single time, he leaned in to kiss her. He meant for the touch to be brief, assuring, comforting. But she bit him with _that_ bite.

Neither of them spared the new arrival any thoughts for a very long time.

xxxxxx

Aeric sat quietly in the dim light, watching the rise and fall of Emmaline's chest. She looked like one of her baby dolls that had been left behind. Her blond hair fell across the pillow, her eyelashes grazing her cheek. A warm peace surrounded him, filling the room and calming his heart, despite all the conflicting emotions.

Anger at Laighn for sacrificing her peaceful existence and long life by bringing her here warred with the selfish gratitude that she was laying here, in his bed. In his room. That he would watch her stomach grow large, laugh with her while she waddled and cringe when she craved wyfag juice. He would bring his own child into the universe, and hold their baby in his arms.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and quietly left his chair, kneeling by the bed. Gently, he laid his hand across her stomach. Her eyes drifted open and before they completely focused, she graced him with a groggy smile.

"Hello," she whispered.

"Hey," he returned softly.

"I just had the strangest dream."

A lump lodged in his throat and he tried to smile, but the muscles wouldn't work. "I'm sorry," he choked. "It wasn't a dream."

She looked shocked for a moment. "I can fly?"

A bark of laughter escaped before he could stop himself. "Um, no. I guess that was a dream after all."

She looked slightly disappointed. "Oh well. With everything else fantastic that has happened today, I couldn't rule out the possibility."

"Yeah, I suppose you couldn't."

She reached out and touched his cheek. "Am I really here, with you?"

"Yes."

She started to cry, and Aeric felt helpless. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No," she said on a sniffle. "I'm just so happy." She didn't look happy. She looked miserable. "These are tears of joy," she insisted when she noticed the look in his eyes.

"Well they shouldn't be," he said. "This isn't a fairytale, Emmaline. This isn't a picnic out here."

Now she looked insulted. "I remember the stories, Aeric. But get this straight." She poked him in the chest, her tears dry now and her eyes narrowed with indignation. "I would much rather be here with you for the next five minutes, than spend the next fifty years alone on Earth without you!"

"I'm afraid that someday, you are going to regret that statement," he admitted. He feared that possibility worse than another raid of bounty hunters.

"Well, that's my problem. But it'll never happen." She paused for a second, and then bit her lower lip. "Um… do you have a privy somewhere? I really need to go."

He pointed to his bathroom and watched her disappear behind the door. He was eternally grateful she didn't see his smile when the automatic flush was accompanied by a yelp of surprise.

"What just happened?" her voice floated from the room, truly concerned. He felt bad for laughing at her.

"That was the toilet flushing. It does that automatically when you stand up," he called back.

"What happens to the waste?"

"Moya does something with it. I've never asked what. I'm not sure I want to know."

She was silent for a moment.

"How do I get water from your sink?" she asked, and he was a little surprised and very proud to hear mirth in her voice, instead of frustration. "I can't find the pump."

"Just hold your hand under the faucet," he instructed. He heard the water start to pour, so she must have figured it out.

"This is amazing!" she said with awe. "How did you ever survive in my time?"

"Your place was a palace compared to some places I've stayed," he told her.

He wished he had chosen different wording, she became silent again until she appeared in the doorway, rubbing her hands on a towel. She was frowning slightly, and she looked embarrassed.

"Aeric, I have a question about clothes." She finally met his eyes. "Do I have to wear those clothes that the other women wore?" Her face flushed. "It's just… there are parts of my body that no one else has seen besides you, and –"

"It's ok, Emmaline," he assured, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You can wear whatever you want to."

"But I don't want to embarrass you, being married to the farm girl from the back forty, clueless and dowdy."

"You won't embarrass me," he assured her. "We have all kinds of clothes on board. I'm sure I can find you a dress somewhere."

She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. "You are the best husband in the world!" she declared happily.

He knew otherwise, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Um… could you find it quickly?" she asked sheepishly. "I'm really hungry, and I'd prefer not to be caught in the dining hall in my pajamas."

"I'll see what I can find," he assured her, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling encouragingly at her.

Inwardly though, as he left his room, he calculated what limb he would need to lob off to get Jelenn to donate one of her dresses. She was a very shrewd negotiator, and unfortunately, she was the only one on board who owned anything remotely suitable.

Sighing, he headed in the direction of Laighn's quarters while he took an inventory of everything he was willing to part with, and which favors he was willing to perform to obtain at least one article of clothing for his wife to wear until they could get to a commerce planet and buy her some of her own stuff.

The least his friend could have done when he kidnapped his wife was to bring something for her to wear!


End file.
